


Faulty

by DarkHell616



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Angst, Chubby Reader, ChubbyOFC, Gen, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Polycystic Ovary Syndrome, Pregnancy, Self-Doubt, Spoilers - Season 12, pcos, unnamed narrator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-09
Updated: 2018-01-09
Packaged: 2019-03-02 19:00:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13324485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkHell616/pseuds/DarkHell616
Summary: Life always did whatever it could to kick people whilst they were down, for once things were looking up.Why would anything ever work out that way?





	Faulty

**Author's Note:**

> Hello.
> 
> First of all, thank you for clicking on this story. Each and every read means the world to me.
> 
> However, unlike my other stories I feel I must give this story a little pre-story information.
> 
> You are welcome to ignore this, though if you're anything like me and a sucker for author notes as long as they're not mixed into the story itself then welcome! Hope you enjoy my tid-bit of reality.
> 
> Now, this takes place at the end of season twelve so I guess I can start with 'Spoiler warning' for those who haven't seen it yet. I wouldn't say it gives TOO much away, but everyone has different interpretations of what is too much and what isn't.
> 
> Secondly, this is written in the first person, but like with most of my first person stories the narrator is unnamed. However, this story involves Polycystic Ovary Syndrome and I have written it from my experience and insecurities. One of the topics mentioned is an actual 'thing' I have that even I can't explain, but it can make me feel like a complete asshole even though I can't help it.
> 
> I wanted to write this as 'real' as I could, obviously some things are suspension of disbelief and such, but as humans we are imperfect and I wanted that to come across.
> 
> So I know PCOS affects everyone in different ways and this is written purely from my own experiences with it, trying to write it on a broader spectrum I feel would seem a little silly and unfair as I don't want to upset or alienate people by attempting to tell their story.
> 
> Anyway, that's all I really wanted to say.
> 
> I do hope you enjoy if you continue to read on!

Bile burned the back of my throat.

The sudden surge rose so fast that I’d barely had the time to make it to the bathroom, if I’d even picked the right one wasn’t a concern as I hugged the cold porcelain.

If this had been a better situation, I’d have had a light laugh at how my boyfriend would probably douse me in bleach and only touch me whilst wearing gloves, he was a germaphobe at the best of times although he’d gotten a little better since I’d met him.

Only now I didn’t want him to touch me, through no fault of his own.

But how could I knowing another woman was carrying his child?

There was another harsh pull on my gag reflex which mixed with a sob, my body lurching forward at if trying to expel an unwanted presence.

After everything he’d been through already because of that vile woman, if it wasn’t her then Mr Scratch posed an imminent threat to his entire team.

Dr. Spencer Reid, arrested for possession of drugs, driving whilst under influence and suspected murder.

The same Dr. Reid who had sworn off drugs and was trying to his hardest to look out for his mother, the man with a heart of gold and the face of a puppy was suspected of murder.

Everything he had worked so hard to achieve was now thrown away as these insane women framed him.

And worse.

My heart clenched in pain at the thought of what he’s been through and only grew worse thinking of what was yet to come.

We had been trying so hard for so long.

We had both decided that we wanted children, despite Spencer’s initial hesitation.

We’d spend hours discussing the pros and cons and took everything into consideration before going for it, we had decided to try for a family of our own.

Despite our efforts, nothing had come to fruition and after many hours of yet more conversation, tears and reasoning, we decided to continue trying whilst also looking at other options available to us.

Though I dreaded saying it, I knew it was entirely my fault.

For years I have been taking Metformin to fight my polycystic ovaries, but I had never gone to get my fertility tested.

I knew that there was every chance that I was infertile, but Spencer’s reassurance and comfort set my worries aside.

“With everything considered, such as my job and living arrangements and continuing uncertainties, I think it’d be a good idea to do this in a ‘if it happens, it happens’ kind of way.”

His uncharacteristic plan of not planning surprised me, but I had smiled and agreed anyway, knowing that he was avoiding a trip to the doctor’s office to confirm our worst fear.

“Besides, we all know that trying to take blood from you is as good as cutting a rock.”

We had both laughed at that, but it was true.

Months of needle poking, IV’s and blood tests between the ages of twelve and fourteen had seemed to have dried up my blood supply, now my veins seemed to only be there for decoration.

At least until you tried to put a needle in them, then they would disappear into some void within my flesh.

Many had tried and just as many had failed, few had succeeded in getting the smallest dribble from me.

Now any attempt left me feeling unbearably woozy and sick.

Those facts combined with not wanting to find out the worst left him completely understanding, this was mostly from his own reluctance to learn the cause of his headaches.

He would have no leg to stand on were he to argue that it was for my health, not that he would ever push me into something anyway.

And now I knew for certainty that it was all my fault.

Even in a drugged state, Spencer worked better than I ever could.

Of course he did, he was perfect.

Even his flaws were positives, for the most part in my eyes at least.

They had told me not to come along, that watching what needed to be done in there could lead to distress.

Cat was known for her mind games and she was working to tear Spencer down bit by bit, so why did I foolishly think that our relationship wouldn’t be at stake?

It’s amazing how the people they face always seem to know the best place to hit them.

This had to be the worst hit imaginable.

My genius was going to be the father to another woman’s child, he was drugged and raped and now had to face the rest of his life with a child of forced circumstances.

And as much as it hurt and tore me up inside to even think it, I wasn’t sure if I could stick around for that.

The thought alone burned in my chest.

It was not his fault, how could I be so heartless?

I know the circumstances and yet the thought of being the stepmother to another’s child was too painful.

Though this notion was something I had felt for so long now, even before I had met Spencer.

It wasn’t anything I could logically describe to myself either, there was just something about it that instantly made me back off.

At my age in this current world it was getting progressively harder to find a man over his mid-twenties who didn’t have a child.

Spencer was my Godsend and the thought of letting him go…

I lean over the bowl as another fierce wretch pulls on my sensitive stomach, my blood running cold once again.

The door to the bathroom squeaked open and I hear a soft voice call my name.

JJ.

I’d briefly forgotten that she had been observing alongside me.

“Are you okay?”

“No.”

Usually I’d have been less brash and would have tried to make a small joke to make others feel less concerned, but I’d never felt like this before.

My stomach muscles hurt and my throat stung as the bile burned the back of both that and my sinuses. The crying had become dry sobs, but my eyes still ached and an impending headache was slowly creeping into my temples.

“Of course, that was a stupid question,” she mumbled softly.

I couldn’t muster up a worded response, instead choosing to grab some tissue and make myself at least a little more presentable despite how I was feeling.

The silence filling the room was unbelievable, I could imagine the sympathetic face she was pulling from behind the stall door.

It was honestly something that I didn’t want to see right now, I just wanted to sit alone, sobbing and possibly drowning myself in alcohol once I got home.

Though going home meant facing Spencer and even the thought of that made me feel ill all over again.

I definitely should have listened when they had said that my tagging along was a bad idea, but he’d been gone for so long that I hadn’t wanted to leave his side so soon.

Now the thought simply hurt.

“It’s over, are you ready to go home?”

“It is? Already?”

How long had I been sobbing on the bathroom floor?

“Yes, we’ve got what we needed, we’re ready to go.”

“But I’m not.”

I sniff horribly and wipe my nose harshly on the palm of my hand, an action I’d usually avoid unless it was drastic, but at the moment I didn’t care.

Going home meant that everything changed and I would become the bad guy because of some uncontrollable feelings and limitations.

After everything Reid had overlooked about me.

The extra weight I carried.

The need to shave around my chin due to the excess hair the PCOS caused.

All of it just as beyond control as what he was going through, although they were vastly different circumstances, yet here I was being unsure if I could support him how I usually would.

I knew it was wrong, but to continue as if nothing was wrong would be unfair on both of us.

To say I was torn would be an understatement.

“I can’t do it, JJ.”

“Do what?”

I couldn’t see her, but I recognised the tone in her voice. Typical JJ sentiment and comfort.

“I can’t just go back as if everything is the same, facing Spence right now seems impossible.”

Another harsh sniff snorts my nose, making me feel even more disgusting.

“But it’s over.”

I let out a snide laugh, “In eighteen years maybe.”

JJ sighs and I get the feeling that she wishes to enter the stall and comfort me physically.

“It’s not his.”

My heart jumps a couple of beats, rising into my throat at her soft words.

“What?”

“She was lying, Spence isn’t the father.”

“He isn’t?”

“No, it was just more of her manipulation, look I can explain later or even better, he can, but we have to go.”

My eyes burn with another wave of tears, thankfully this time tears of relief and joy.

Things were going to be alright, though I knew that I’d be honest and tell him my doubt throughout all of this time at some point.

It seemed only fair that he knew.

A soft knock rapped on the main bathroom door.

“Girls? If you’re done, can we go and get my mother?” Spencer calls from the other side, his voice muffled by the wood.

“She’s safe?” I hiccupped.

“Yes, but we need to get going.”

I nod and slowly push myself off of the floor, now that I’d come to my senses I could practically feel the germs seeping through my clothes, dirtying my skin underneath.

Hesitantly, I unlock the stall and slip out, JJ instantly giving me a faint but reassuring smile.

“How’s he taking things?” I ask, rubbing at my puffy eyes.

“About as well as you’d expect,” she replied with a soft sigh. “He went into denial, then got angry and worried until we had a brief talk and figured out that she was lying.”

JJ rests a hand on my shoulder, her eyes full of empathy.

“He needs you right now.”

“I know and I’ll be there to the best of my abilities.”

A glance was spared towards the mirror, though it wasn’t needed as I knew that I would look like a total state.

Not that appearance was important at this very moment, what mattered was getting Spencer back to his mother.

“There may be things he won’t want to talk about,” JJ warned gently.

“That’s fine, I doubt I’ll want to talk about them either,” I nod whilst heading over to the door. “At least not until he’s truly ready.”


End file.
